Distractions
by Meepyonnee
Summary: Honestly, she loves distractions. Books, internet, television, food, that lint stuck on her sweater, etcetera etcetera. Her handsome professor, too, is a welcome distraction. . . . The wedding ring on his finger, you ask? It's a distraction all right, but she doesn't like it one bit. -:- AU.
1. 1

_A/N: Ta daaa! I wrote a random thingie again! This story is set in an AU in which we jump ten years in the future. Mai never worked at SPR. This little fic has only ten chapters, each of varying short lengths. Hope you enjoy~_

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[1]

Seeing that ring on his finger had always irked her.

Although, Mai admitted, she knew she had no reason to get so riled up.

"Ms. Taniyama, what do you think?"

"Yes, sir?" she asked, looking up from her doodle. "Oh, um. The answer is B, Malum Prohibitum."

"Correct," he said. Then he moved on to his next victim, asking the reason behind the answer.

She sighed and rubbed the sleep away from her eyes. Then she sighed once more, out of frustration. Her hand had started to move by itself again, outlining her drawing.

The drawing was of her ridiculously handsome professor. Well, most of him. She left out his left hand. And his damn wedding ring.

She was nearly done with the sketch, only shading was left. It was a good sketch, she thought. Not bad, not bad. Though maybe if she erased that conceited smirk and replaced it with a -

"Taniyama." The voice came from right beside her ear.

"Who - what?" Surprised, she stood up and backed away frantically. In her haste, the things on her desk cluttered to the ground. She had been so focused on tracing the perfect smile on the two-dimensional face, only to be surprised when the three-dimensional model himself was standing behind her.

"Class has adjourned. Didn't you hear the bell?" He smirked. Damn that smirk.

". . . I'll be going then."


	2. 2

_A/N: Fast update, huh? Well, I finished my initial draft already and I have up to chapter 7 completed, so updating will depend on my mood from now on, hehe. And btw, I don't think I'll be able to wrap this up in ten chapters... I clumped too much at the end. Fifteen, then. Maybe._

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[2]

It was during another one of his lectures that she found herself daydreaming. But without her sketchbook this time.

Honestly, her professor was kind of amazing. At such a young age - she herself was only twenty-six; she doubted he was that much older than her - he had already lived the full life that she wanted. He finished school and graduated with honors, had a successful career as a prosecutor, was a professor at a top school. She even heard he was involved with several research projects in England, too.

And he was married. Damn it, he was married. That ring reminded her every day.


	3. 3

[3]

She wondered if he knew how much she hated that ring. He kept flaunting it. Sure, he was currently in the middle of giving a passionate speech about the difference between defense lawyers and prosecutors. Yeah, it was only natural to use such hand gestures when giving passionate speeches. Even so. Ugh.

After class, she approached him to ask about his ring - ah, no _no_. She was going to ask about his _comments_ on the first draft of her term paper.

"Sir, may I ask what you wrote here?" She pointed to the red scrawls.

He took the paper from her and squinted. See, even _he_ couldn't read his own scribbles. "Your logic is flawed. Here, in this part you should have stated . . ." He used his left index finger to point to her wrong answer, his ring in plain sight.

She scowled at it.


	4. 4

_A/N: Omg have you guys read the recent Akumu chapters posted on mangalator?! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I knew it! Sasakura was... and the mirror..! And and and... There was a lot of Narota, hahaha ;)_

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[4]

She stared at the substitute teacher balefully. She was in the perfect mood to sketch her favorite subject, but then what? He isn't here! Why why why why why w -

"Professor Shibuya will not be joining us this afternoon," the old crone droned. "He has some personal matters to take care of."

She sighed. Today was _not_ her day. Earlier, she had been scolded three times for reasons that were seriously not scold-worthy, she tripped in the middle of the cafeteria and thereby wasted perfectly good food, and now she wouldn't be able to draw? Damn it all.

"Since Professor Shibuya didn't prepare anything, I took it upon myself to fill today's schedule. You have an hour to finish the quiz I have here."

September nineteenth was now on her (long) list of most hated days.


	5. 5

[5]

"Taniyama, a word if you may."

The rest of the class snickered as they left the room, all of them thinking the same thing: she was in trouble. Again. They were already used to the fact that she was the one oh-great-professor-Shibuya picked on endlessly. And seriously, even she was used to it, too.

When everyone had cleared and only the two were left, he cleared his throat and said, "Why are you here?"

"Well, sir," she started, a split second of deliberation telling her sarcasm wouldn't be wise to use here. So she swallowed the reply she was about to utter and stayed quiet.

"Why are you studying law, Taniyama," he said, clarifying. He was doing that annoying thing again, tapping his index finger to the beat of a muted metronome. His ring glinted, teasing Mai, but what she didn't notice was the test paper underneath his hand, the exeptionally difficult one the sub gave the class. It was hers; she got a perfect score.

"I . . . Because . . ." She averted her eyes. "I don't know."

"Let me rephrase my question, then. Why did you decide to pursue law?"

Several moments passed before she answered. "I had a reason once, but then I forgot."

They looked into each others eyes, one seeing helplessness and the other seeing empathy.

"You are dismissed."

". . . I'll see you on Thursday, sir."


	6. 6

_A/N: Woohoo, longest chapter yet. The next one's gonna be a problem though. I can't think of a - um, how do I say this - 'kilig' worthy moment. Yeah, that._ ' _Kilig'. (Look it up on google, yo.) Unless I think of one (that isn't too damn cliche), I won't be able to continue, haha. Anyhoo, thanks everyone for the great feedback! *v* Loveyouloveyouloveyou_

 _(Hey heeeyyyy psst, shameless plug time! **archangelBBQ** and I are writing this story called, __'The Narota Files_ _' and heeyyy it would be so freaking awesome if you checked that one out, too ;D It_ _'s posted on her account~_ _)_

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[6]

"Don't you have an umbrella?"

"Oh." She turned to the person beside her, who, she decided, was far too silent for his own good. This was the millionth time he sneaked up on her; he always did that when she sketched instead of paid attention to his lectures. "No, sir. I didn't think it would rain today."

"You don't watch the morning news." It wasn't a question.

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes amusedly. He was an attorney after all, he's used to picking apart testimonies. She'd better be careful with her words.

He hummed noncommittally. "Let's go." He tucked his bag between his arm and torso and opened his umbrella. "Which way?"

With her eyebrows raised up, up, up, she blinked once, twice, then pointed to the left.

They walked side by side in silence, the beating of the raindrops on the umbrella's roof mute to the beating of her heart against its cage. She watched as her feet struggled to match his long strides, fervently wishing her pulse would calm.

"Have you found an answer?" He asked. She turned to him in confusion while his eyes were fixed straight ahead. He had slight freckles, she noticed.

She looked away when he met her gaze, then realized she had not given her response yet. "No . . . I still don't know."

"I wish you would soon," he said. "You will be an exceptional lawyer one day, I have no doubt. But without passion, you won't go far." In slow deliberation, the corners of his lips twisted up into a small smile. It was neither happy nor sad, just wistful.

Again, they fell into silence. Her hands balled into fists, nails digging into flesh. She struggled to keep the tears at bay.

She already knew she had no passion, no direction. She didn't have to hear it from someone else.

They reached their destination with not another word uttered during their walk and said their goodbyes under the craggy shelter of her bus stop. The professor started to turn away when she suddenly reached out and clutched his coat.

"You asked me, sir, about why I'm pursuing law. I can't give you a proper answer right now, but would you mind if I ask you as well? Why did _you_ pursue law?"

". . . I don't know, either."


	7. 7

[7]

"This is kinda your fault, you know."

"If you hadn't fallen asleep on the book, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Are you saying that if the book _hadn't_ been under me, then you would've just took it and left me here?"

"Naturally."

"It never even crossed your mind that leaving me alone in an empty library is wrong."

"Nothing's wrong with being alone in a library."

"If the only exit in the entire building wasn't _locked_ and if it's still within business hours, then yeah nothing's wrong. Except, oh look at that. The door's locked and it's already midnight."

"An astute observation. Very good."

"Are you deaf, sir? The exit's locked. We're locked in. If you just _woke me up_ , then we wouldn't be in this situation. But now we won't be able to get out 'til morning. And we don't have food. I'm hungry. I'm gonna die."

"Your logic astounds me."


	8. 8

_A/N: Ahhh I'm getting carried away with the library scene! I told myself this would only be a 2-part thing, but with this... well. Let's make it 3 parts, then._

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[8]

"This isn't really the time for parlor tricks, sir."

 _"Who you callin' a trick, missy?"_

It'd been two . . . three . . . maybe four hours (she stopped counting ages ago) since they'd been locked together in the library. After her initial rage about not having food, she went into depression and stayed quiet, pouting like a toddler. She'd even studied like she was supposed to; that's how depressed she was.

Anyway, Professor Shibuya had more or less left her alone in that period, only occasionally calling her name when she stopped skimming the pages. But perhaps he got tired of that, so now _this_ was happening.

Even when she'd been dutifully reading the text in front of her (yeah, without understanding anything), he'd called her name again.

"I want to introduce you to my good friend."

And her genius response was: "Wha?"

Then, he showed her his 'good friend', a five hundred yen coin. He was good friends with a freaking coin.

"Don't be shy," the man murmured, his words directed at the (clearly) inanimate thing. "Say hello."

There was a high-pitched sigh before a disembodied voice irritably said, _"Howdy do."_


	9. 9

[9]

With her head resting on the table, she sighed - quite loudly - and brought her hands together, twiddling her thumbs. It didn't bother her that they had no food on hand, really, but . . . it was getting hard to ignore the grating pressure building up every second. She had no idea where it came from exactly, though she had a feeling that man over there was somehow responsible.

His unexpected shenanigan earlier lightened the mood for a while, but it wore off almost immediately. Oh, they tried talking. She initiated the conversation, asked him about this and that, mostly skirting around the edge of what a student was and was not allowed to know about the private life of their teacher.

And then - snap! He stopped her midsentence and changed the subject, let the conversation die and skulked over to the nearest bookshelf, where he was now poring over some book he's surely not interested about. Written on the cover was, 'Metaphysical Phenomena - Methods and Observations by J. Maxwell'. Why would an evidence-driven prosecutor believe in such nonsense?


	10. 10

[10]

"It would have been nice if you told me _earlier_ that you already found a way out!" she exclaimed, prying open the unlocked window that Professor Shibuya showed her.

"That would have spoiled our fun with my good friend Tom, though," he said, tossing the damn coin to her. She didn't catch it.

 _"_ _What fun? The lil miss right there kept hurlin' me across the room this past hour! Don'tcha know it's hard to run back to Kazuya every single time? I don't even have legs!"_

"Sir, can you _please_ cut that out? It's not funny anymore."

"I'm not doing anything. Look, he moved on his own." He stepped closer to her and reached for her closed fist.

"H-hey what are you—"

He cradled her hand with both of his own, and all she can think of was, _'Omgomghe'sholdingmyhandomg'._ This wasn't the romantic setting she had imagined for them—the first time she saw him, she was hit with a sudden vision of them having a date at the beach, only for her to chuck the idea out the window because she saw the ring on his finger—but damn she never imagined that _he_ would take the initiative to make the first move!

"See, he's right here," he said, interrupting her inner monologue, gently prying her fist open. The coin was in there.

"Goddamnit, Tom."


	11. 11

_A/N: I squeezed a chapter in the middle (it's #9). New chappie's the next one~_

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[11]

"I'm really, really sorry about this, sir," she said for the bazillionth time, covering her crimson cheeks with one hand to hide them. Not that it was necessary, since the professor wouldn't see anyway. He was carrying her, not like a bride—as she secretly would have wanted—but like a child: piggy-backed.

"I'll let you go if you don't hold onto me tighter," he grunted, hitching her higher on his back and tightening her legs around his waist. He reached behind him and took her hand, interlocking it with the other to embrace his neck.

"Well, if you just caught me like you said you would, we wouldn't be in this situation," she muttered. They had exited the library resembling guilty burglars, and through a second-story window no less. He'd jumped down with practiced ease, as gracefully as a cat, and had beckoned her to mimic his actions, accompanied by the words 'Don't worry, I'll catch you'.

"If you didn't close your eyes and land three feet off, then I would have caught you," he sighed. "We should go to the hospital. You might've fractured something."

"No no no no no I'm fine! Look—" she wiggled her ankle and yelped. "Ow shit ouch ouch ouch—ah no I mean . . ."

"I thought so."

"No seriously I'm fine, I don't need to go to the hospital! This is just a sprain. All I need is ice and some chocolate, then my foot's gonna be okay."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you have ice and chocolate at your apartment?"

"Yes. Please just take me there. I don't want to go to the hospital."

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 _A/N: What Mai doesn't know is that Nacchan failed to catch her 'cause he got blindsided by her underwear ehehe (she was wearing a dress)_


	12. 12

_A/N: . . . Hi. I'm going to update this everyday til I finish. I swear by my left hand. (Btw, I squeezed another chapter in the middle_ — _it's number 9)_

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[12]

"What floor did you say your apartment was?" Mr. Shibuya asked, a slight tremor lacing his words. With her arms around his neck, she could feel how hard he was breathing. _Was she that heavy?!_

"The eleventh," she murmured. "It's on the eleventh floor."

"I heard you the first time," he huffed. "And why aren't we allowed to take the elevator?"

"Just because."

He trudged his way up the stairs of her apartment's front porch, stopping twice to hitch her higher on his back since she was slipping off. ". . . We're getting on the elevator."

"W-wait a minute, sir, how about we think things through first, huh? There are many benefits to taking the stairs! Health benefits, I tell you! And -"

He sighed. "It's either the elevator or the hospital. Choose one."

She shut her eyes tightly, her eyebrows bunching together at the middle in distress. "Th-the elevator, then."


	13. 13

[13]

Inside an old, rickety elevator stood two people, far apart despite the limitations of the cramp space. One stood at the very back and the other stood right in front of the control buttons. Their hands were a bridge between them, interlaced tightly like two chain links tried and tested by time. And yet it was as if a single gust of wind could break them apart.

The lights flickered on and off twice, but only one of them noticed. The girl in front of the controls had her eyes closed, her left hand covering her eyes. She did not shiver nor whimper, but she muttered strange things. Short of breath every other word, she counted in a very odd way, starting with one, then one-half, then one-fourth, then one-eight and one-sixteenth . . .

The man behind her pursed his lips, staring at their hands. Hers was paler than his, and that's saying a lot for he was paler than the moon. Her dark hair accentuated her chalky skin, just as it did his own. But with the striking difference his skin and his all-black garb had, she and her peach-colored dress projected a harmony befitting an opera house, with her as the star of the show. Or was it that she fitted a theatre instead, playing the magical, tragic princess who had lost everything she knew and everything she ever wanted?

The floor beneath them shook slightly, not so much as a tremble, but the effect of the infinitesimal quake was vivid in her hunched form. She drew into herself even more, crouching halfway down in an awkward squat. Inch by inch, she tore her hand away from her tightly shut eyes, covering her ear instead. He could feel the hand enfolded by his start to hesitate, slipping away, but then timidly holding onto his again.

He couldn't help but wonder what caused her to be so afraid. What had hurt her so terribly?


	14. 14

_A/N: Two words—braise yerselves._

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[14]

"Thanks for patching me up, sir," she said, nervous energy crawling up and down her skin in spite of herself. She shot him an embarrassed grin, patting the secured ice pack on her ankle. "Thanks, really."

The professor replied with a sigh, still tired from the ordeal he had gotten himself in. From the long hours locked inside the library, to him carrying her across the entire campus. And he was sure the elevator ride had been more exhausting than if he had instead carried her up eleven flights of steps.

He closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and a pointer finger, sighing once more. He turned for the door, picking up his discarded jacket lying on the floor as he went.

"You're welcome."

Just as he was reaching for the knob, she murmered, "Would . . . would you like a cup of tea before you go?"

And when he looked at her—eyes downcast, thumbs twiddling, shoulders tense—knowing that she truly wished for him to stay, he knew he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He crossed the room in three hurried strides, cradled her cheeks gently with both hands, and kissed her.

Her eyes shot open in surprise, but instead of seeing the ceiling above her, her sight was clouded with a haze brought upon by the frenzy of emotions swirling about in her head.

He drew himself away from her lips after what she felt was a lifetime, and looked at her with confliction hidden behind his glasses. Reaching up, she took those off and leaned in—but not the entire way. She hovered in front of him, with only an invisible paper's depth separating their lips, waiting for him to cross the distance.

Infinities upon infinities passed without them moving closer or moving away, and consciously feeling the heavy influence of their heat mingling together was even more intense than their kiss. They looked at each other, knowing what they wanted and knowing that they shouldn't, inner thoughts bare for the world to see reflected in the windows of their souls.

But suddenly he severed the link, leaning away from her and averting his gaze. His unmoving stance gave nothing away as shadows from a window criss-crossed his flushed face. She couldn't guess what he was thinking anymore.

And slowly the sun rose, bringing in warmth into the room with its specter of colors, invading everything with an enlightenment she didn't want to see, didn't want to believe.

A ray of light glinted at his closed fist, and she realized it was from that damn . . . wedding ring.

All her blood rushed down to the soles of her feet as butterflies fluttered frantically inside her stomach, then heat reentered her body not a second later, shame replacing desire as it stained her cheeks.

". . . I'm sorry."


	15. 15

[15]

She marched her way to school, willing her legs to take her faster. Yet, part of her wished she could go slower. She had a test today, one she dreaded to take. If only time would stop for her right now, gave her a few more moments to breathe.

Regret could only embrace her, knowing she had purposefully neglected to study 'til the last second - that last second being now, ten minutes before class. With a cup of takeaway coffee in her hand, she ardently skimmed her notes while praying for a miracle.

She tore her eyes away from the illegible scribbles to take a swig of joe, yet her lips would never meet the cup.

 _Should I run away?_ she thought.

Professor Shibuya stepped out of the backseat of a car near the front gates, helping another passenger out the vehicle. A woman - a very beautiful woman - stepped out, her gentle magenta eyes transfixed on the man before her.

She smiled at him, but her lips twisted into a pout when he flicked her brow playfully. He was in the middle of saying something when she leaned forward to kiss him on his cheek, fixed his collar, then said farewell.

She must be Professor Shibuya's wife.

Mai continued her review, taking another route to class.

* * *

 _A/N: I'm pretty sure it's obvious who the woman is..? Any guesses anyway? ;)_


	16. 16

_A/N: This story is spiraling out of my control, as usual. Obviously it didn't end at 15 and I probably won't be able to wrap it up at 20. I've decided to stop estimating. (Besides, I won't listen to myself anyway~)_

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[16]

"Your Honor, this witness's testimony has been proven to be decisive. He was there at the moment of the murder, just as the suspect pushed a knife through the victim's heart. This is enough to put the suspect behind bars," said Professor Shibuya, his arms crossed loosely. He pushed his glasses up to prevent them from falling as he read through the extensive case summary for this murder.

Well, this wasn't a real trial anyway and the murder happened two decades ago. The students would face Professor Shibuya one by one in a debate as their exam. He and Mai were having one about a notorious case from that year, and she was confident that she would win this. She had pored over the entire records extensively, analyzed each testimony and scrutinized all the pasts of those involved.

"But what would be the point of hearing the testimony of someone who has history of dissociation? None of what he may say would be reliable," Mai retorted, failing to follow rule number one of debate intimidation: eye contact with the enemy.

"Haven't you read the witness's profile at all, Ms. Taniyama? No medical record shows this history of which you speak," said the professor, placing the papers he was holding down on the table in front of him. "All of this is conjecture from what you've heard from the first witness's testimony."

"Objection! I have not made any conjectures at all! All of what the three testimonies we've heard have mentioned this witness's dissociation - even the person himself admitted to this in a recorded interview that the detective in charge conducted before this trial."

She presented a recorder to the judge, another professor in this university who was going to grade their performance. As the media played, she looked over to the prosecution's side where Professor Shibuya was. And averted her gaze.

 _First things first, Mai. Love or contempt or heartbreak - or whatever the hell this is - can wait._

When the recording stopped, she said, "There are even accounts of this witness's mental illness in his personal journal, narrating his confusion at having such flimsy memories all the time."

He frowned. "Evidence is everything in the courtroom, you should know this by now. Your Honor, none of what the defense has motioned until now matched any of the evidence presented in this court - all of which were personal accounts. I request for this trivial debate be removed from the transcript."

"Your Honor! Y-you cannot allow this! I have presented cohesive arguments to prove this witness's unreliability. _His_ testimony should be struck out of the transcript!"

The judge shook his head right and left, bringing down his gavel. "The prosecution's rebuttal has established the undependable nature of this testimony. I grant their request to remove the defense's - "

"But Profe - Objection, Your Honor! The witness's actions and words have implied -"

"Objection overruled. That is all there is to it, isn't it, Taniyama? Implication. As the prosecution said - evidence is everything."


	17. 17

_A/N: I award 100 space cookies (not just regular cookies - **space** cookies!) to the brilliant FrenchCirce, whose astute comments make me seriously think she's a mind reader~_

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[17]

Leaves fluttered restlessly in the background, trees swaying to and fro as the wind blew. Mai sat at one of the benches behind school, listening to the sounds of birds singing in the distance. She couldn't hear them very well, because beside the bench where she sat was an old vending machine, whirring and sputtering.

She . . . she was going to fail that class, wasn't she?

 _Clank._

The vending machine came to life beside her, but she didn't notice.

 _Clank,_ it said again.

"Here."

Professor Shibuya handed her a can of iced coffee, sitting on the bench beside hers and opening his own can.

"The witness had dissociation. You were right." He took a swig at his coffee as if he was drinking alcohol. From this close, she could see the prominent bags under his eyes.

"Where's your evidence?" she asked, mimicking his condescending tone from the debate.

"The journal of the witness's mother. She was a psychiatrist and she diagnosed the witness herself, but she was ashamed to have a mentally ill son so she hid it-that's why there weren't any medical records."

"B-but," she stammered, still processing what he had just said. "Why wasn't this presented to court?! Never mind the debate a while ago, but how about twenty years ago? This is vital evidence! The defendant could have been innocent and because of this witness he was sent to jail!"

"The journal wasn't part of the original evidence list. I dug it up myself," he said as he stared far away. "It wasn't included in the trial because the defense's cross examination was weak. It never even crossed their minds that the witness had dissociation."

"Then why didn't you tell me?!" Mai stood up, panting for air. "I could've won if you showed me the journal!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why would I have shown it to you?"

"Because . . ." She bit her lower lip and faced her back to him. "I don't know. Because you're my teacher and I'm you're student, so isn't it natural for you to help me?"

"I'm not a preschool teacher." He sighed. "In any case, I'm not here to discuss the debate."

She responded with silence, not trusting herself enough to control her temper.

"I'm here to apologise for the other day. It was my mistake. I hope you forgive me."

"You said that already," she grumbled. His words that night still echoing in her ears.

'I'm sorry . . .'

"I truly am. It was inappropriate."

Mai closed her eyes and let out a long breath, indignation rising up to her head.

"You should say sorry to your wife, not to me."

"My . . . _wife?"_ He pronounced the word slowly, as if it was foreign. "I don't recall ever getting married, Ms. Taniyama."

She turned to face him, not quite believing her ears. Was this one of the tricks unfaithful men commonly used?

"Then what's that?" She pointed to his left hand.

And he simply said as he raised his left hand, "Ah, this."

. . . What the hell kind of response was that?

"It isn't mine," he said, smiling wistfully. "It's my father's, and my brother has my mother's. The rings are our only mementos of them." He fiddled with his ring, turning it around and around his finger.

Mai wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. It wasn't everyday people told you their parents were dead. Let alone this guy you had a crush on for months and thought was as tight-lipped as the most obstinate clam.

His phone rang, breaking the silence. Taking it out of his pocket, he turned it off before checking who called.

"I'll leave first. See you in class next week, Ms. Taniyama."


	18. 18

_A/N: Hiii sorry for being late! Thanks sooooo much to all of you who reviewed! I promise I'll reply to you guys (someday) I just haven't found the time lately :x_

* * *

[18]

She found herself back at the drawing board. Literally.

As the professor went on and on and on about what the majority of the class did wrong during the debate, she sat at the seat furthest from him, hunching over her desk. Not that anyone would see anyway, since no one was beside her nor behind her.

Nevertheless, it was better to be cautious. She's gotta heighten her senses, protect the embarrassment on her desk . . .

She was sketching Professor Shibuya. Again.

It became an addiction of sorts, she realized. And her efforts have clearly paid off - though for what purpose, she didn't know. She could capture the intricate arc of his eyebrows now, match the angular curve of his elbows. She could even copy the shoes he always wore to the last detail. With her eyes closed, too.

She regretted not bringing colored pencils to class. Or maybe next time she should just bring an entire watercolor set along with a bulky easle and an army of brushes.

Her blue ball point pen paled in comparison to the color of his eyes.

She finished the picture just in time as Professor Shibuya dismissed the class. As she shoved it into her bag, she noticed how she drew his left hand. It wasn't hidden like last time, and it was clear for all to see that it didn't have a ring on it.


	19. 19

[19]

"Huh, so . . . He isn't married after all," Mai mused to herself as she picked on a crumpled piece of paper, ripping it into bits. When she was satisfied all the little pieces weren't tearable anymore, she pulled out another page of her brutally rejected term paper.

Her fellow law students buzzed around the library, despite the huge 'Keep Quiet' sign posted up front for everyone to see. Easily recognizable were the freshman, who were still filled with vigor and adorable eagerness. Easier to spot were the graduating batch, who were as busy as the freshmen, but instead they were either listless or anxious. There's a big test coming up soon.

Mai sighed into her pile of snow imposters, watching as they floated away and into the face of a sleeping student in front of her. _Oh, w_ _hatever shall she do now?_ She hadn't actively pursued Professor Shibuya because she thought he was married, but now that she knew he really wasn't . . . Should she?

Well, she had never tried courting a guy before—or maybe not 'courting' per se. The new word for that nowadays was 'seducing', probably. Regardless, she wouldn't give up just because of her inhibitions. She knew what she wanted and she would get what she wanted. So with reinforced determination, she slammed her hands on the table—waking up her dreaming neighbor—swept her shredded paper into her bag and sauntered out of the room.

Knowing _exactly_ where she was going, she climbed four flights of steps and headed to the west wing where personal faculty offices were. She ignored the loud pounding in her chest, the abnormal emptiness of her stomach and the sudden heaviness of her feet.

She came face to face with the entrance to room 404E, sucking in a deep breath and letting it all out in one short puff before raising her right fist. Even three staccato beats later, no one answered the door. Maybe Professor Shibuya hadn't heard her? Noticing that the door was unlocked, she let herself in.

Nothing could ever have prepared her for what she was about to see though.

(Or maybe deep inside, with her pessimistic conscience as the narrator, she knew this would happen.)

There was a woman in Professor Shibuya's arms—rose colored hair was all Mai could see of her. But she knew this woman was the same one she saw with the professor as he was coming out of a car by the front gates.

They were so deeply entwined and it was hard for her to watch them, yet she couldn't peel her eyes away. She soon snapped out of it anyway, seemingly slapped across the face by her own conscience.

She promptly staggered back to the library. She had a term paper to rewrite.

* * *

 _A/N: 404 Error. Heh, get it?_


	20. 20

_A/N: Hello again~ Thank you for waiting! I had to sort my thoughts first. Tbh when I posted the last chapter, I really wasn't sure where I was going yet :x But I've already mapped the next arc so fret not! The daily updates shall continue ;)_

 _Also - shameless plug yo. Check out my other ongoing story too! It's called Phantasmagoria and it's totes awesome. You will be blown away by its sheer magnificence. I guarantee it._

* * *

[20]

Deciding to sacrifice her folder to the rain, Mai held it at the crown of her head to ward off stray bullets of water. She raised her free hand and flailed it rampantly, hoping a cabbie would notice her. Today was the lone day she decided to leave her umbrella at home in favor of carrying 'absolute essentials' in her new, totally cute bag. And by cute she meant _tiny._

It was just her luck that it actually rained. And bus drivers nationwide decided that today was a great day for a strike, so yeah.

"Oh Goddess of Luck," she prayed, mumbling through chattering teeth. "Help me out just this once. I won't ever ask anything else for the next two years."

And just then, a cab actually stopped before her - though at the other side of the road. As cars honked and drivers yelled, she crossed the street hurriedly, ignoring the lack of a pedestrian lane underneath the steps she took. She opened the door with a smile pasted on her face, ready to utter her destination.

Imagine her surprise when another smile greeted her, though it wasn't from the driver. The other passenger door was open, a woman with magenta hair between its jambs.

"Oh, um," the woman said, ligjtly scratching the corner of her mouth with an index finger. "You can go first. I'll hail the next one."

Taken aback by her generosity, Mai's eyebrows rose up and up, lids threatening to blink uncontrolably. She shook her head. "No, it's okay. You got here first, I should wait for another one."

"It's okay, really."

"You should take this one."

"Look ladies. We can do this all day but what if -" the driver said, his gruff tone carrying impatience. "You both just hop in already?"

The woman gave her an apologetic smile. "Are you in a hurry?"

"Not really," Mai replied.

"I'll go first then," she said as she stepped into the car, closing the door beside her.

"Sure."


	21. 21

[21]

The ubiquitous drumming of rain on metal over their heads. Car horns screeching everywhere. A decidedly dreadful tune on the radio. The woman, who she found in the arms of the man she had been infatuated with for several months, humming a weird remix between two very different genres.

Relying on her peripheral vision, she snuck a glance at the woman beside her. There was a hint of a smirk in her eyes, though she tried to suppress it well. Now and then her lips would betray her, twisting up ever so slightly even as she sang.

Mai shook her head and tried to focus on the loud cacophony, imagining how instruments might imitate the strange discord. Could bowed strings be able to copy how exhausted this cab's engine sounded? Was it possible for a trumpet to parrot the vengeful winds whistling through the windows? Might a piano be able to accompany a fusion between Enka and R&B?

What would a duet between this woman and Professor Shibuya sound like, Mai wondered. Would he be able to keep up with her rampant tempo? How would they harmonize during the chorus she had composed? After they had finished playing their song, what would they do next? Have pizza delivered, binge watch an entire season of a foreign television series, fall asleep together on the couch. Or not—because she was wearing his shirt that night and he just couldn't resist anymore so he hefted her over her shoulder, rushing to their bedroom where they would—

"I'm Madoka Mori, by the way," the woman said, offering to shake hands. "You can just call me Madoka."

Mai resisted the urge to hurl herself to the other side of the country. She could feel heat rising at the back of her neck.

"Mai Taniyama, 2L, Criminal Law," she sputtered out automatically, realizing her mistake only after the words had already escaped. Her fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to smack her forehead, but instead she shook Madoka's waiting hand.

"Are you one of N—Kazuya Shibuya's students?" Madoka asked, her tone teasing.

"In a weekly seminar, yes," replied Mai, her gaze shifting away from fuchsia.

Giggling, Madoka leaned in and whispered as if she was revealing a secret that might endanger the entire human race. "Wanna know three sure-fire tips on how to pass his class?"

Mai's eyes widened as she leaned in wordlessly— hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

 _A/N: ...What did I do yesterday, you ask? I baked banana bread. It was edible. (PSA: Don't ever use brown sugar.)_


	22. 22

_A/N: I... I have no excuses. I'm just... very sorry this took soooo damn long. I hope you still remember this story? ;-;_

* * *

[22]

 _"Sure-fire tip numero uno: suck up the good old-fashioned way. Be the teacher's pet and sit in front. Ask questions when prompted, answer his when given the chance. Never zone out! He absolutely_ loathes _it when students do that."_

Madoka's words rang repeatedly inside Mai's head, pounding on her temples along with a raging migraine induced by sleep deprivation. It's been going on ever since she woke up to a self-recorded alarm of "MAI WAKE UP. TODAY'S THE DAY. THE DAY YOU HUMILIATE YOURSELF SPECTACULARLY." She had made this custom alarm (for Thursdays especially) a few months back when she first realized she had a crush on Professor Shibuya. And the alarm proved itself a prophecy each time—indeed, she humiliated herself one way or another in every _Investigations_ class.

But today was a special day, Mai thought. A special day to humiliate herself spectacularly. She had decided to actually go after Professor Shibuya, consequences be damned. (But of course, if it meant having to endanger her career in the long run, then she'd drop everything in a heartbeat and forget about the enigmatic professor. She'd _try_ to forget about him, at least.) She's going to do everything to get the guy—passing his class would just be the added bonus. . . . Or was it the other way around?

First tip was to suck up. Easy enough, sure. Mai's had years of practice being the teacher's pet. Madoka's instructions were clear-cut too, such a breeze to do . . . Yeah.

Answering was gonna be tough, since Professor Shibuya's questions were damn hard. Like, on the scale of one to ten on law student torture levels—his questions were at eleven. Only the true geniuses would dare answer them, only the brave fools would _try_. Mai was neither a genius nor was she brave. So, no. Mai wasn't going to try answering.

Sitting in front's going to be . . . um, no. Just no. First of all, from the start of the semester, students had an unspoken rule that the seat they dump their buns on in the first class would be the seat they were stuck with until finals. That rule's _very_ hard to break.

Second, even if she _did_ dare to change seats and go up front . . . all the rich kid snobs were there. Mai heard that for some of them this was their third time taking the class. Probably money didn't work the first time, brains didn't work the second time. Sucking up _might_ work on the third time. But yeah, anyway. Mai didn't want to go up there just to be the object of their circle's ridicule.

Lastly . . . She just really didn't want to go sit in front. How could she sketch in peace then? It kinda became a habit to sketch Professor Shibuya. Her hand would just automatically start tracing the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his lips. She knew she should just write notes, really, but she'd justified to herself that she could do that _later_. Her handy voice recorder would help her with that.

Okay so. At this rate, the road to becoming the perfect teacher's pet was slowly going up in flames.

What else, what else.

Asking. Yeah, the asking Mai could do. Oh she had a ton of questions for Professor Shibuya.

What should she do if she encounters conflict between written law and actual legal procedures? Why does the law enforcement sometimes contradict constitutional rights of citizens? And how should we nab police officers or government officials who have broken the law, but are protected by it anyway because of their position?

Also, how is it possible for your eyes to be _that_ blue? I have never seen that peculiar shade anywhere. It's so beautiful. I'm no stranger to blue eyes, mind you. I have a friend who's a foreigner and his eyes are as blue as the morning sky, but yours are just . . . wow. I can't really describe the color. Mere words are nothing to your beauty. I mean, your eyes' beauty.

By the way, are you free this Saturday? Ayako, another friend of mine, is gonna have a housewarming party this weekend and I really don't want to go because they'll all tease me again for not bringing a date but there's gonna be lots of food, and I could never refuse free food, right? Would you ever refuse free food? So I was thinking maaybe—

"—niyama. Ms Taniyama." A book landed itself on Mai's desk. Heart skipping a beat, she jumped, nearly falling off her chair. Her head jerked up in panic, eyes meeting two ice cold black holes—which were strangely blue instead of, you know, black. "Welcome back. Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Hi! Yes! I mean—no! T-the answer is C!"

Silence engulfed the hall. Mai could feel the eyes of her classmates boring into her, mortification setting in as heat pooled her cheeks. Then suddenly, everyone exploded into laughter, some of them going as far as slapping their thighs. _Slapping their thighs_ , damn it.

"I've reminded you time and again Ms Taniyama. This isn't preschool." Professor Shibuya sighed, looking as if he was so _done_ babysitting every single one of them here. Never mind the fact that he was barely older than any of his students, with some even older that _him_. "Regardless, be sure to see me after class."

Mai groaned internally, externally, eternally.


	23. 23

[23]

From waaay across the hall, Mai could see Professor Shibuya arranging the papers on his desk, sitting daintily in front of the room as he waited for his students to disperse. Some of them said goodbye and he nodded back in reply.

A faint beat reached her ears. As silent as a calm pulse, but as irritating as when someone near you couldn't stop shaking their leg.

Ah, wait. She stopped her leg from shaking. The beat was gone.

When the last of her classmates had left—left her to be fed to the wolves, or rather, _wolf—_ Professor Shibuya stood up and turned off the projector, then beckoned her forward. Mai thought she had already been descensitized by the taciturn professor's after-lecture lectures. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her heart pounded faster, breath escaping her lungs in hurried puffs _—_ yes, perhaps she _had_ gotten used to being scolded, yet she could never get used to how the light would hit his angular features _just right_ , how unexplainably interesting it was whenever he adjusted his glasses, how hipnotizing his parted lips were.

Mai's thoughts went back to _that morning_ _—_ chapped lips, hand on her waist, unfairly long lashes _—_

"We should really stop meeting this way, Ms Taniyama," Professor Shibuya said, an eyebrow perked up, one side of his lips upturned slightly. It was almost as if he was _teasing_ her.

 _Yes. Absolutely,_ Mai thought, almost overcome with the urge to blurt out 'Saturday. Six pm. Meet you at the park near my apartment.'

She bit down on her lower lip.

"This will reflect on your final grade if you keep this up."

Yeah, okay never mind about the teasing. Mai could feel that he would really fail her if she kept zoning out. What was Madoka's second sure-fire tip again . . .

 _"Contrary to how grumpy he usually is, he actually loves getting compliments," Madoka giggled. "Oh but not on how absolutely dashing he is_ _—_ _he'll get pissed off if you do that_ _—_ _praise his work! I think he published a new textbook recently?"_

Should she go for it?

"I value participation in my class, Ms Taniyama. It holds forty percent of your final grade." _Crap. Really?_ Professor Shibuya opened a notebook and took a cursory glance at his messy handwriting. "Currently you have eleven deductions."

Horror dawned on Mai's face. Okay. Okay, she needed to do something. What was his textbook about again. Case analyses. Best one was the 2002 BH Murders. Organization was topno _—_

Professor Shibuya smirked. "I know that you _do_ still pay attention to me in class, and _—_ " Mai could swear a gleeful, vindicative light glinted in his eyes _—_ "I'm rather flattered that you think I'm a good enough model."

Like a deer caught in the headlights of a five ton truck, Mai's eyes grew wide, body frozen. She let out a whimper she shouldn't have let out.

"But may I remind you that we're in law school, Ms Taniyama," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching as he struggled to keep his mirth at bay. "Although . . . I _do_ admire the portraits you've drawn of me _—_ you have talent. Have you considered taking fine arts later on?"

-:-:-:-:-

Mai died. She is deceased.

* * *

 _A/N: I owe this chapter to the beauty of_ 'La Parfum des Fleurs' _from the Yuri On Ice OST. Without that magnificent piece I would never have figured out where tf I was going with this chapter hahaha! Oh how gracefully Nacchan dropped that bomb on Mai~_


	24. 24

"Masakoooo," Mai whined, head glued to the table. "I'm doomed. DOOMED, I tell you."

"I'm sure you did your best, Mai," Masako replied, totally not listening to her friend at all. Masako continued sipping her cup of tea while playing candy crush on her phone.

"My past two attempts failed and now I'm down to one! I'm not even sure if that'll work!"

"Mm-hmm. Go on." Masako nodded as if engrossed in Mai's storytelling.

"Do you think Madoka's only messing with me? The third tip definitely doesn't make any sense! It's like, I'm finding it hard to believe that it could even ever apply to an adult male who's an amazing professor _and_ a top prosecutor?!"

"Yup. Totally. Makes sense. Oh—thanks," Masako said as the waitress set down their ordered pastries. "By the way, what time are we going to Ayako's later?"

"And the drawings!" Mai flailed her arms up, nearly knocking over the hanging lamp over their table. She ignored Masako's question. "God, Masako. He knew about the drawings the entire time!"

"Well," Masako shrugged, rolling her eyes. "It's not like you were trying to be discreet."

"My hand was covering it!"

"Dear, have you seen your hand? It's puny." Masako reached her hand across the table and held it against Mai's upturned palm. "See, it's smaller than mine, and _you're_ the taller one here."

"I-I was hunching over my desk!"

"Makes it obvious you're doing something suspicious."

"But . . ."

Masako smirked. "It's like you can't help but act like an idiot in front of him."

Mai groaned. "I know I _know_ , you don't have to tell me." Violently—if one could do that to food anyway—Mai scooped up three macarons and shoved them all into her mouth.

"Mm. Well that's what love does to you, I guess," Masako said nonchalantly, and Mai sputtered, nearly choking on the macarons.

"Mmph— _wa-ter_ ," Mai coughed, ramming a closed fist again and again into her chest.

"Here."

"Th-thanks," Mai said and gulped down an entire glass of water—but then. "I do _not_ lov-lo- _loholy_ shit. Shit. Okay don't look—he's here. Behind you. At the counter."

" _No_. No way." Masako grinned and looked behind her.

 _"Noooooo_ — _!"_ Mai-whisper-screamed.

". . . Oliver?"

* * *

 _A/N:_ _Oh~~ I just really love Masako~~ Such a precious sinnamon roll~~ Her dialogue is so easy to me~~ It's like I'm possessed whenever I write her~~_


	25. 25

[25]

"Oli _what?"_ Mai, puzzled, shook Masako's arm and tried to snap her out of daze. "No, Masako that's Profe—"

After the barista handed him his drink, Professor Shibuya checked his watch, then headed for a seat—headed over toward Mai and Masako.

"Wait. Oh my god. Act casual." Mai scrambled for her frappe and slurped heartily.

If 'acting casual' was blinking a million times in one second while trying not to cringe at the sudden brain freeze . . . then yes, Mai was acting casual. And Masako— _God,_ this girl—she wouldn't stop staring at Professor Shibuya. The only thing saving them from discovery was the couch Masako was sitting on, its loosely woven back serving as a screen to hide their faces and slightly crazed eyes.

"Masako. _Masako stop it,_ " Mai hissed. "H-he's coming—stop doing that! Stare at your tea until it goes cold and contemplate about life for hours and hours like a true cafe patron!"

Professor Shibuya passed by them. Good. Great. Okay, he sat down. He pulled out a laptop, plugged in earphones. He's tuning out the entire world. He wouldn't notice us here—

Masako stood up.

 _Goddamnit._

"Oliver, is that you?" Masako asked, going towards his table. She bent so that their eyes leveled, squinting to see behind his glasses since they were reflecting the laptop screen's light. "It _is_ you, isn't it?"

Professor Shibuya halted his typing suddenly. He looked up from his work, and when he realized who called out to him, he removed his earphones.

"Masako?" he asked, bewilderment apparent in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Masako beamed. Mai had only seen her smile that wide a handful of times in all the eight years of their friendship. "How have you been doing? How is your family? Are they here with you?"

"No it's only me here," he said, still pleasantly surprised. He took Masako's hand and shook it firmly. "It's been, what, fifteen years since we last saw each other? Your family moved to . . . where was that again . . . Ah yes, to Kyushu, right?"

With her mouth agape, Mai stood silently at the sidelines, absolutely dumbfounded with the situation presented to her. She watched as the two continued exchanging pleasantries, the seconds hand of a nearby clock ticking louder and louder every second.

"Oh I almost forgot, how rude of me," Masako said, going back one step and beckoning Mai to come forward. "I must introduce you. This is my friend, Mai. We went to high school together and she's been clinging desperately to me ever since," she chuckled.

"Um. Hi . . . ?"

At this point, Mai just couldn't process anything anymore.

"Mai, this is—" _Professor Shibuya, the guy I told you about, the guy I've been infatuated with for many many months, the guy who kissed me and told me to forget about it, as if I could fucking do that anyw_ — "Oliver Davis. He's a childhood friend from England when my family stayed there until I was ten."

Mai's panicked, utterly-confused eyes met Professor Shibuya's turbulent blue.

"Ms Taniyama. Good afternoon."

"Yes. Hi . . . sir."

Masako gaped at Mai, then at Professor Shibuya. Then at Mai again. "You've . . . met?"

"Yes. She's a student of mine." He paused. "Speaking of which, I just graded your midterms. You got a 69.49, but I'll consider it a 70. You're welcome."

Silence passed through them. Mai could see the gears turning in Masako's head, and judging by the way Masako's lips formed a tiny little 'o', Mai could swear that's the exact moment Masako put two and two together.

 _'Oh my gosh it's him,'_ Masako mouthed at Mai.

* * *

 _A/N: If you look closely, you'll see that 'o' is the_ exact _face Masako made lol_

 _And oh yes yes yes I agree with you Spiceandsugar10! This_ _ **is**_ _going to be such a grand shit show for our dear Mai lmao you have no idea (one hint: Ayako's housewarming party)_


	26. 26

[26]

"Welcome!" Ayako's fiery hair filled Mai's vision as the doctor pulled her into a quick hug which, in a blink of an eye, turned into a thorough pat-down search. The older woman spun Mai around when she couldn't find what she wanted, raising a perfect eyebrow at Mai's empty hands. "Now, where are my gifts? You don't get to come in if you don't have one!"

Mai reached into her pocket and handed Ayako a gift certificate. "Yeah yeah here you go, can I come in now? Thanks." Not waiting for Ayako to usher her in, Mai just hurried the hell inside.

And ardently ignored _that guy_ who was following behind her.

If it was another day, another time when the universe wasn't pulling out all stops to fuck you up, then Mai could have admired how beautiful Ayako's chic new loft was. The doctor bragged endlessly during its construction that she managed to force Yasuhara—Mai's senpai in undergrad—to design it for her, expecting only the best from the best interior designer in town.

If it was another day, Mai could have sympathized with Yasu. She had heard from him how Ayako was a designer's worst nightmare—changing plans just seconds after finalizing the last one, requesting too many things to fit into the limited space, calling Yasu in the middle of the night just to ask if she could have an ottoman in the bathroom.

Well it wasn't another day. Mai couldn't do any of that. After all the shocking revelations of the day so far (let's hope there aren't any left) Mai's brain was too numb to process anything right now.

Masako, her best friend, was actually her law school professor's childhood friend, who Masako hadn't met since she was ten. And for some reason, they managed to meet once again _right_ as Mai and Masako were talking about him.

 _"How is this even possible?!"_ Mai whispered to herself as she sat down on the (according to Ayako's screeches, two-thousand dollar) couch.

Professor Shibuya—Davis, whichever, she didn't want to think about that yet—sat down next to her.

Oh, and did she mention? Masako, _that_ _girl_ , invited him over to Ayako's party too. Apparently Masako, Ayako and Professor Shibuya's parents knew each other, and oh my gosh Oliver, what a great opportunity? Would you like to come with us to Ayako's place? She will be having a housewarming party there tonight and Auntie (Mrs Matsuzaki) will be dropping by for a bit. I'm sure you'd like to meet them too after such a long time?

That look on Masako's face while she was inviting him. Seriously. It was a cross between sadistic glee and sincere giddiness for your bff. The whole time Masako had been inviting him, Mai noticed the girl peering at her more than a few times . . . talk about being obvious. But, well, if Mai could just stop freaking out, she'd appreciate what a great wingman Masako was being right now.

 _Yeah, Masako,_ Mai thought. _What a great opportunity. I'll have a chance to talk to him tonight._ There would be an 80 percent chance of her humiliating herself, but at least in this setting they didn't have the teacher-student label hanging over their heads unlike in school. Yay for Mai.

"Now about your midterms," started Professor Shibuya/Davis/Whatever. He had a glass of cider in one hand. Oh boy. Did he know that Ayako spiked every drink there was in her house? "You could have aced it if you just answered the essay questions. Why is it that you always skip my perfectly worded essay questions?"

Okay. Never mind that thing about not having teacher-student labels hanging over their heads. Dammit.

"Well, sir. Your perfectly worded essay questions—they're perfectly impossible to answer, to be honest."

"So you just gave up and let your grade plummet to a measly 69.49, then?" He scowled, then took a swig at his cider.

Mai, too, sipped her cider. "Oh yeah I wish you let it stay a 69 instead."

"W-what?"

"What?"

Disbelief clouded his eyes, fueling more fire to his warming cheeks. He cleared his throat. "You want me to . . . fail you, then? But—"

"Hey guys, Yasu and John just called. They're gonna be a bit late, but they'll be bringing more drinks!" Ayako sang, obviously delighted at the promise of booze on a weekday.

"Takigawa just texted me too," added Masako. "He's on his way right no-"

The front door swung open with a bang.

"LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!"

Crickets, tumbleweeds and deadpan stares sang through the air for one moment, until Ayako exploded.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY EXPENSIVE-AS-HELL MAHOGANY DOOR?!"

"OH THIS IS MAHOGANY? THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR THAT INFORMATION. PLEASE TELL ME MORE."

"WELL FIRST OF ALL YOUR SLIMY-ASS FINGERS DON'T DESERVE TO TOUCH MY HUNDRED YEAR OLD WOOD WHICH WAS CARVED METICULOUSLY BY THE GREATEST—"

"Wait WAIT SHUT UP—HOLY SHIT IS THAT—"

Takigawa and Ayako's very loud bickering then became very loud gawking; Ayako's confusion towards a very stupid, in her opinion, _stupid_ Houshou Takigawa, and Takigawa's awe and wonder at the professor.

"OLIVER DAVIS?!"

* * *

 _A/N: Bwahahaha I'm having too much fun with this! Oh~ my favorite thing in the world right now is Murphy's Law~_

 _Thanks for all your support~ I know I don't reply that often to you guys but seeeriously ily all ~~ (and oh wow this thing's barely past the 10k mark but we're almost at 200 reviews? how? how did that happen?)_


	27. 27

[27]

"Hey Ayako, tell me I'm seeing things. That ain't Attorney Oliver Davis, right? There's no way he's drinking spiked cider in your house, right?" Takigawa not-so-covertly whispered. He was at the other side of the room, yet Mai heard him loud and clear. Oliver Davis/Professor Shibuya himself, who was beside Mai on the couch, no doubt heard him as well.

"Yeah it's him, moron. I'm warning you now - don't go running your mouth here," Ayako said, giving Takigawa the stink eye. "I just want a quiet, peaceful housewarming party, capiche?"

"If you wanted a quiet party, you should've thought through inviting him and Yasuhara at the same time," Masako chirped.

Mai sipped her cider. The man beside her did so as well.

"Why the hell is he here, Ayako?" Takigawa whined loudly, throwing away all modicum of social conduct.

"What the hell's your _problem?"_

"You know that poet dude I love, E.C.?"

"Yeah?"

"This guy -" Now Takigawa just outright pointed a finger at the man. "This guy insults E.C. all the frickin time! A prosecutor should have no such business badmouthing the greatest poet ever! And I don't know how the hell he does it but he manages to squeeze in an insult or two directed at E.C.'s poems in every one of his courtroom battles! And he regularly publishes hateful critiques online too!"

"His nauseating works are quite atrocious. I'm simply stating cold hard facts," Professor Shibuya said.

"DON'T YOU DARE INSULT THE ILLUSTRIOUS EGBERT COLIN!"

* * *

 _A/N: Lmao I don't know why this took me forever to write! I've been saving up this idea since three chapters ago and it is by far the greatest plot twist I've ever thought of hahahaha I can't wait to read your reactions_

 _Btw~ I updated Phantasmagoria too~~ Please do read it as well~~~_


	28. 28

[28]

 _"'To be as dark as the night / Wonderstruck by its gloom / O! How pitiful the moon must be!'"_ Takigawa slurred, his eyes half-closed in an effort to look emotional. It wasn't working; he just looked like the drunken poem fanatic he was. "I dare you to tell me that isn't genius right there!"

The professor sighed, rolling perfectly blue his eyes. "First of all, is 'wonderstruck' even a word? Second of all, you took those lines from the most idiotic poem that 'poet' has ever written—' _My Journey with the Moon.'_ All it's symbols pointed towards the speaker being pissed with the most inconceivable things—he's probably stuck in traffic despite it being _midnight_ while his brother's sleeping soundly, that bastard—but still, everyone has interpreted this poem as the _pains_ of unrequited love. It's absurd." He took another swig at his cider. Ayako swooped in to refill his glass.

Now, Mai was very much used to his long, long speeches, but only when they're about law and murder cases, 'cause you know, he's a law professor? When did he become a passionate literature expert?

"Now listen here you little—!" Takigawa's voice rose in volume. Rose a few octaves too. "Egbert Colin is a genius poet who doesn't deserve your criticism! He—"

"Everyone has a right to express one's opinions, Mister—" Professor Shibuya turned to Mai. "What is this man's name?"

"Takigawa," she answered.

The man in question hiccuped, shooting her an intoxicated smile. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

"'Sweetheart'?" echoed Professor Shibuya, with his brows raised, articulating those two syllables ve-ry slowly.

Suddenly someone put their arm on Mai's shoulders. It was Yasuhara. "Good evening, _sweetheart_ ," he crooned, cheshire grin bare for all to see. "I'm seven seconds in, but I can already see that the party's going great so far, huh? Good thing we brought more drinks, John!"

* * *

 _A/N: O! How shitty a poet am I! —Seriously tho, sorry for making you read that lol let's pretend it's intentional bc Egbert Colin really does write cheesy poems hahaha!_

 _Let's have a game! Comment your own poems and the corniest, most cringe-worthy one gets to be published in the next chapter! xD_


	29. 29

[29]

 _Spin the bottle; spin yo rhymes._ It was the name Yasuhara came up with.

Mai wondered if, in the history of the whole entire universe, there was ever a game like the game they were playing right now. With eyes glazed over—not from boredom, oh far from it, but from being mesmerized by everyone's drunken antics—Mai watched the fifty-thousand-yen champagne bottle spin and spin and spin . . . and spiiiiiiiiiin.

—until it landed pointing to Professor Shibuya.

Or Oliver Davis? Whatever. Let's just call him Naru the Narcissist from now on. From the way he'd been basking in the spotlight as the night progressed, yeah. Drunk Professor Shibuya was indeed a narcissist.

"My turn, it's my turn." Naru the Narcissist murmured from his seat, sandwiched between Yasuhara and John—two of the best heavyweights Mai had ever had the indignation of drinking with. She never even saw them get so much as tipsy despite downing all that vodka in a drinking match between them last month.

But anyway.

"My turn!" repeated Naru the Narcississisiist—what's the word again—and he set down his glass, nearly knocking it over. He blinked three times, looking rather challenged with the task, and then cleared his throat. "From the compilation _Ninety-Seven_ —"

"Whooo!" Takigawa cheered. This one's probably from that E.C. dude again.

 _"Thinking of you waiting plainly / This fire spreads within me, gamely / A proclamation of antici_ — _"_

Takigawa clapped and excitedly shook the person beside him—a half asleep Ayako. "Yes! YES THAT ONE. I LOVE THAT ONE."

Naru the Naru nodded to Takigawa. "THANK YOU. NOW SHUT UP. Where was I?"

"NO, NO. I KNOW ANOTHER GOOD ONE FROM THAT COMPILATION—"

"KEEP YOUR DAMN VOICE DOWN—"

 _"SHINING AS BRIGHT AS MY LOVE'S TEETH / AS THEY SHOW THEMSELVES TO ME-"_

"NO FUCK NO THAT'S—" Naru the Narciline the Vampire Queen started, but was soon rebutted.

"I actually like that one though?" John said calmly, for some reason his voice still clearly heard amidst all this shouting. "It reminds me of - _Thy eyes sparkle with glee / As they turn to look at me / Can this_ . . . . Ah, I forgot the rest."

" _Can this be true love_ ," recited both Takigawa and Naru the Naruto.

"You know, for someone who claims to hate this E.C. dude's poems so much," Ayako slurred while she refilled her glass. "Why the hell do seem to have memorized every single one of them?"

"Shh. _Shh_ , Ayako. Let it be." Mai lifted her glass for a toast. Ayako lifts hers as well. They drank their wine with their arms entwined, a couple shot.

Meanwhile, Naru the Nambo Number Five continued his oration as he clutched the bottle with both hands, as if it was a microphone.

 _"O! the life I thought so dreary / Awakened by your lovely kiss / For you I would win—"_

"Nope. You're done." Masako wrenched the bottle away from him and spun it in the ground. It landed on Yasuhara.

"Yes! Finally!" Yasuhara stood, bringing Masako with him, and did a little dance.

"No I'm not done yet—" Naru the Nar—Narcishit grabbed the bottle and pointed it toward himself. _"O! how shall I ever rid this pain / It's like an unremovable stain! / O! liberate me from—"_

"MY. TURN." Yasuhara downed two shots. _"Cows eat grass / They make great gas / Cows go moo / They make great poo"_

Struck by awe, everyone in the room snapped their fingers for Yasuhara.

"Bravo," everyone echoed.

* * *

 _a/n: I'm probably drunk myself? lmao i'll edit tomorrow_

 _But anyhooooo, heeeeyyyyy i'm so so sorry for the wait! I've been so busy with so much narcishit lately_ — _and it took me quiiite a while (as you know, im so sorry) to decide which poem is the winner_ — _bc all your poems are so beautiful!_ — _but it got so hard that i just decided to put parts of all of them in the chapter! Thank you sooo much guys!_

 _Credits to the lovely people who submitted their lovely poems *let's pretend there's a heart emoji here*_

 _-_ FallenBleedingAngel, Fanficluver4life, CrescentMoonTenshi, Lovepeaceandcheese, Nightpanda123, _and_ archangelBBQ! _ilu all!1!1!_

 _/btw~ i wrote a fire emblem au~~ it's entirely comprised of character interactions~ please check it out~~_


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